Jessica stared after him. She wasn’t ready to talk…not just yet. If he yelled at her, she really would burst into tears. “I need to use the bathroom.”
Before he could speak, she set her purse and the salon bag on the desk, hurried into the bathroom, and closed the door. Locked the door.
Dropping onto the toilet seat, she sniffled like a wuss. Her tears were partly due to hurt feelings. Because Z had been so…cold. He hadn’t been happy to see her at all. Yes, he’d just come back from a funeral, but he hadn’t wanted to hold her, to take comfort from her. Instead, he’d been furious.
She’d wanted to help him, but he couldn’t see past the fact she’d disobeyed him.
Accepting that the Master Z part of him would undoubtedly punish her for her defiance, she’d thought the husband part would welcome her support while he was mourning his friend.
Apparently not.
Needing air, she opened the tiny bathroom window. Decks on the ground floor overlooked a forested creek that curved like a green snake through Anchorage. Past the city were white-topped, jagged mountains under a leaden sky. Spectacular, yes, but there were no palm trees, no pools or tropical flowers, no warm sun. Only cold, gray clouds.
Feeling another tear roll down her cheek, she growled under her breath. The other reason for her tears was sheer frustrated anger.
Why was he being so stubborn? He did need her. And he kept shutting her out instead.
Well, he said they’d talk. Fine. He’d get an earful.
Heading for the door, she glanced in the mirror and winced. Red eyes, running mascara. That wouldn’t do. No need to start at a disadvantage. She turned on the faucet, held her hand under the frigid water, and blinked in surprise.
Pink-red liquid was running down the drain. What in the world? She turned her hand over. Something red had smeared her wrist and palm, and she must have been so preoccupied with Z’s reaction she hadn’t noticed it before.
Was that blood?
She glanced down. No, she hadn’t hurt herself.
There hadn’t been blood on her hands at the salon. Or in the taxi, for that matter. She’d have noticed when she paid the driver. She’d have noticed if she bumped into a bloody person.
What if she’d tried to hug one?
A cold chill slid through her.
Z’s shirt had been damp.
It hadn’t rained today.
And when she’d gripped his waist, he’d winced and stepped back. Even if he hadn’t wanted her hug, he wouldn’t have winced.
Blood wouldn’t show on his black attire.
He was injured.
Chapter Seven
Having mastered his anger, Zachary stood at the living room window, looking out at the gray skies.
The door to the bathroom flew open. Face flushed, hair loose around her shoulders, Jessica stomped out.
She was glaring. At him. “You.”
He lifted an eyebrow.
She held her hand out. When he tried to take it, she stepped back and made an outraged noise low in her throat. “You are bleeding.”
Blood streaked her hand. Ah, right. The gunshot wound.
He tilted his head. “I was, yes. That’s part of what I’d like to discuss.”
The color drained from her face, making her green eyes stand out. “Are you all right? Are you still bleeding? Did someone hurt you?”
Just like that, her temper had vanished, and all her concern was for him. Was it any wonder he loved her?
“Is that why you have that man following you? Are you in trouble?” She grabbed his jacket front, emphasizing her questions with small tugs.
If he started bleeding again, they’d both be unhappy. “Easy, kitten.” He set his hands over hers, quieting her.
Her gaze dropped to his side. “Tell me. Please.”
Putting more fear into those eyes was the last thing he wanted to do. He hesitated.
When she pulled in a hurt breath, he wanted to curse himself. The Dom who’d promised to protect her at all costs was the one who was harming her.
“I seem to have picked up a stalker. He took a shot at me at the funeral.”
“A stalker?” Her voice sharpened. “And he shot you?”
“It’s just a graze.”
“Show me.” Her growled “show me” didn’t sound meek in the least.
A laugh tickled his throat. She’d sounded like this when they first started seeing each other. When he’d discovered the strength at the heart of this submissive.
Zachary pulled off the bloody jacket and his shirt. The white gauze deVries had taped over his right ribs was still in place.
Jessica stared at the blood streaking his skin. “Your graze bled a lot.” Her voice shook.
“I know it’s a cliché, but it looks worse than it is.” He touched her cheek. “The bullet made a shallow furrow through skin and muscle, nothing more.”
As her gaze lifted, her eyes narrowed. She pointed to his right upper arm. The rip through his deltoid was still scabbed. “Was that from a bullet, too?”
“Yes.”
Her color deepened as her quite obvious fury began to escalate.
He glanced at the loveseat. “Let me sponge off first, then I’ll tell you everything.”
After a second, she nodded.
When he came out of the bathroom, she handed him one of his black shirts.
“Thank you, kitten.” After putting it on, he wrapped his arms around her.
Rather than burrowing closer, she was stiff in his arms. Angry and hurt. Remorse ripped through him. He’d messed this up badly from the start. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for getting a stalker? For getting shot?”
“Sorry I didn’t tell you everything from the start.”
She pulled back. “Uh-huh. About that.” Her voice rose. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Not giving him a chance to answer, she jerked away from him and paced across the room. Kicked the desk chair. Turned back around. “Well? Well?”
“I was going to, but…”
“But. Right. There’s always a but. You’re just like my clients.” She kicked the chair again, this time hard enough to send it barreling into the wall. “I planned to keep the receipts, but I got drunk. I would’ve made that estimated tax payment, but I got a divorce that month. Or laid. Or something. I would’ve told my wife that someone wanted to kill me, but it just kind of slipped my mind.”
Z couldn’t blame her. He’d be furious if he discovered she was in danger and didn’t tell him. So, he settled onto the loveseat to wait her out as she let off some of her anger.
Was it appalling that he found her outraged ranting adorable?
When the chair hit the wall hard enough to leave a dent, he rose and gripped her shoulders firmly. “Enough, pet.”
After eyeing him wrathfully, she let him pull her down beside him on the loveseat.
He took her hands, holding them trapped in his. “I started to explain everything that first day, but that was the night you told me you were pregnant.” As the wonder of her announcement swept through him, he shook his head. “I couldn’t ruin that moment.”
“Oh.” Gaze dropping, she stared at the rug.
Finally, she looked up. “I guess I can see how you might have waited. But only until the next day.”
“Quite honestly, I’d thought the police would catch him quickly.”
“That’s why you told me there was an armed man in the neighborhood.”
“It is.” He sighed. “I didn’t want you to worry about me.”
“You had someone shooting at you.” Her voice was stilted. Disbelieving. “And you didn’t want me to worry? Are you crazy? Or simply too dumb for words? I can’t believe—”
He tightened his grip on her hands to keep her from rising.
“We are partners. Or so I thought. You didn’t see fit to tell me you were in trouble? Or that Sophia could be in danger, too?” She jumped to her feet. Paced. Kicked the chair again—this time in h
is direction.
He blocked it with a foot and waited out the new deluge until she sputtered to a stop.
Until she sat down beside him again. “Why, Z? Explain it so I can understand and not kill you and stuff your body under the bed and leave it rotting there for a maid to find.” She glanced at the bedroom door. “That would be mean to do to a maid.”
Not him, though, hmm?
Yet the fact she didn’t hide her anger pleased him. Now, somehow, he had to fix the damage he’d done.
“I thought I had good reasons, but, I can see they weren’t good enough.”
“What reasons?”
“Because you still have nightmares from your kidnapping. Even the incident at Anne’s house brought them back. In addition, we have a child at a demanding age, and you still work. You’re pregnant. The last thing you needed was more stress.”
“I’m not fragile,” she stated through gritted teeth. “If you’d told me, at least I’d have been worrying about the right things.”
She sucked in a breath and held up a hand to keep him from speaking. “More than that, we’re partners, not just Dom/sub. You don’t keep secrets from your partner, Z…even if you do want to protect her from all the things that go bump in the night.”
Z was listening with that complete focus that said he’d put everything aside to concentrate on her. Her words. Her body language. As if nothing else mattered in the world except her. And a tiny bit of her anger faded.
“You’re right. I made a bad decision. Lying by omission was wrong. I was wrong. I’m sorry, Jessica, and I apologize”
Her anger diminished further when she saw honest regret in his gray eyes. He really was sorry.
“I can’t help wanting to protect you from anything and everything that might hurt you.” His deep voice softened. “You gave me a daughter. Watching you two together… Sometimes I’m not sure I can hold all that love. I love you very, very much, Jessica.”
“That’s not playing fair,” she muttered as her heart melted.
When tears spilled from her eyes, he cupped her face and used his thumbs to wipe the wetness from her cheeks.
“You should have told me. About being shot.” Her anger rose again. “I’m going to be mad at you for a while.”
“Fair enough,” he said equably. “As long as I get the same privilege.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you get to stay angry at me after I admit I was wrong and apologize, I get to do the same with you when you make a mistake.”
Oh…damn. She scowled. Because she loved how Master Z’s anger didn’t linger after she’d apologized.
Or after she’d been punished.
“You should be punished,” she grumbled.
“You’re right.”
She froze. He’d insisted she punish him once and made her hit him with a flogger until his skin welted. The memory was horrible. Hurting him was intolerable. “No. I won’t—I can’t ever hit you again.”
He studied her face, and amusement lit his eyes. “All right, I won’t make you beat on your Dom.” He pulled her into his arms again, against his broad chest, and like a flood, contentment filled her, messing with her anger. “What can I do to make this right for you?”
Wasn’t that just like him? She’d met Doms who never admitted they were wrong, somehow thinking that being in charge meant they never made mistakes. But Z never failed to take responsibility for what he did, never failed to apologize and try to make things right.
God, she loved him so much.
And he was waiting with that unlimited patience of his for her to come up with an answer.
“Let me think about that.” She was tempted to come up with something mean, but—she sighed—he wouldn’t do that to her.
“All right.” He smiled slightly. “Now, about you coming here—”
Inside her purse, her phone rang.
Was something wrong with Sophia? Jessica hurried across the room to her cell and checked the display. “Mom? Is Sophia all right?”
“Mamamamama.”
“Sophia.” Smiling, Jessica sank down into the closest chair. The longing to be home with her baby was an ache in her heart.
Her mother came on the line. “Are you in Alaska? Zachary called, and I was worried. Are you with him now? Was he surprised?”
“I’m fine. Yes, I’m with him, and uh, I’d say he was surprised.” Jessica bit her lip as she glanced over at him.
Z gave a deep laugh.
As her mother continued, Jessica relaxed, loving the report of Sophia’s brilliance and charm. Of how many new words she’d learned. Of how she had everyone wrapped around her little finger.
“She tells your Aunt Eunice what to do, and my sister simply does it.” Mom’s voice was loud enough that Z could hear.
His grin flashed.
Jessica grinned back. There was no denying their daughter had serious management skills. “Yes, Mom. That’s right.” As she talked, she watched her Dom.
Shirt still unbuttoned, he prowled around the room.
Really, should any man be allowed to look that hot? The solid wall of his chest tapered to a hard-packed abdomen. His black hair was mussed. The angular line of his jaw was shadowed by a day’s growth of beard.
With a quizzical frown, he looked in the bag from the salon, which was filled with high-end hair and body products. He opened one bottle and sniffed. When an eyebrow went up and he smiled, she gave a happy, silent sigh.
“And don’t forget to watch out for bears,” her mother warned. “They have grizzlies there, you know.”
It was a two-legged predator with a gun she worried about.
Or maybe the one stalking around her room right now. “Yes, Mom, I’ll watch out for bears. I’ll let you know when we’ll be home. Love you, too. Bye.”
Leaning on the desk, Z folded his arms across his chest. The shirt gaped open enough she could see the gauze pad on his side. There was an awful lot of blood staining the white.
She rose. “I need to change that dressing.”
“I’ll do it. It’s nothing you need to see.”
Still protecting her. From bad news, crazy stalkers, and ugly wounds. She set her jaw. “I’ve figured out your punishment, Master Z, and it’s in three parts.”
“Three parts?” His lips twitched as if he suppressed a smile. “Isn’t that excessive?”
“No. You lied—okay, not exactly lied, but evaded the truth—multiple times over multiple days. Right?”
“Indeed.” His head tilted. “Go on.”
“First part. I’m okay with being shielded physically, but no more trying to protect me emotionally by concealing the truth. That isn’t what I need—and isn’t what I want for our relationship.”
“That’s an odd punishment.”
“But it’s the part you’ll probably find the hardest to fulfill.” It would go against every protective instinct in his Dominant soul.
His brows drew together, and he nodded. “All right.” His gaze met hers. “I have missed sharing everything with you, to be honest.”
Her heart melted like ice cream in the sun. Then she shored up her resolve. He wasn’t off the hook. Uh-uh.
She paced across the room and drew his shirt apart. “Second part. Actually, though, this is part of the first and not shielding me from emotional stress.”
He waited.
“I’m going to change your dressing and do the wound care from now on.”
She saw his objections rise and how he bit them back. He nodded.
So she motioned to the bathroom.
“So stubborn.” Rummaging in his pants pockets, he pulled out packets of sterile gauze dressings and tape. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.” As she pulled off the dressing, she saw he hadn’t lied to her. The wound was a clean groove, although the sight of the bloody gash in his smooth tanned skin made her want to cry.
She couldn’t. Not if she wanted to convince him how strong she was. The wound had stopped b
leeding. It was going to be all right. Concentrating fiercely, she washed the gouge and used a new gauze pad and tape to cover it again. “Done.”
“Thank you,” he said gravely before kissing her lightly. “I’ll let you know when it needs to be changed again.”
She let out the breath she’d been holding and let him guide her back into the living room.
“You said three parts?” he prompted.
Right. Three. “Third. After that crazy man is arrested, I want a vacation. Just you and me for a couple of days.” Because she missed being able to cuddle and talk without listening for a baby monitor. Missed making love without worrying about being interrupted.
If he still wanted to make love to her after she got all angry and demanding.
His eyes narrowed. “What was that thought, right there?”
When she looked away, his fingers closed on her chin and forced her to meet his intent gaze. “Jessica.”
“Can I hope you’re not so mad that you don’t want to make love?”
“Ah.” His lips curved in a dangerous smile. “It’s a rare moment that I don’t want to make love to you. However, I’d be delighted to give you some reassurance.”
After taking her lips in a long, warm kiss, he set her back from him. Regarded her slowly. His voice deepened. Darkened. “Strip for me, little one.”
A shiver ran through her. When Z turned into Master Z, he had the power to rock her world.
Under his steady, authoritative gaze, she removed her clothing until she stood naked in the center of the room.
“Very nice.” With a faint smile, he strolled around her. Inspecting her as a Master would. His hand trailed over her wide hips…and she could feel his appreciation of the beautiful curviness. When he cupped one breast, she could see his pleasure in the heavy lushness. How he enjoyed teasing her nipples to pebbled peaks.
With a ruthless hand, he tilted her head up and took her mouth, his lips firm, kissing her deeply until the floor beneath her shook.
“Stay there.” He disappeared into the bedroom and reappeared with the quilt from the bed. After spreading it out on the floor, he set the salon bag beside it.
“Sit there.” He pointed to the quilt.
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